


Overloads of Overlord

by Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Crying, Insults, M/M, Overstimulation, Restraints, Torture, Valve Oral (Transformers)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:28:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23302420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves/pseuds/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves
Summary: Megatron tries to un do his past wrongs, and in turn, seeks to help his old followers to the correct path. Overlord has other ideas during his visit.
Relationships: Megatron/Overlord (Transformers)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 48





	Overloads of Overlord

**Author's Note:**

> This is some juice for @pastelpaperplanes on tumblr. Drink up bb

"This is happening because you've ignored me, you know this, right?"

Megatron. The absolute bane of his existence, while simultaneously being the very thing he coveted most in the entire universe. The (former) warlord had gone soft, and was currently in his berth. And it was beautiful. The room was dark, lit up only by their natural lights, and it reeked of his offerings. Energon coated its walls, old, and beyond the point of redemption. It felt appropriate. Megatron had finally come back to him, for all the wrong reasons. He sought to cease his wonderful offerings, claiming that these no longer pleased him. No matter. One way or another, he will finally sate the ever greedy, ever hungry Megatron. 

"This is happening because you refuse to listen to any sort of reasoning."

Megatron thrashed against his binds yet again, clearly trying to get free. This may look bad, but sometimes one must be forceful in order to be loving. Pressure makes diamonds, afterall. Overlord lightly clicked his glossa as he leaned forward, hands slowly roaming up his frame. So beautiful, was his Megatron. So thick, so boldly framed, so powerful. He was an icon of beauty and strength. That is, until you see that little blemish, right on his chest. The symbol that started the collapse of his once worthy temple. That stupid, red, bright, autobot symbol. Oh how he loathed it. Loathed how it demanded Megatron's over attention. ESPECIALLY over him. How dare Megatron choose these spark rats over him?

"No, Megatron. This is because your temple is tainted. This is because you've refused to give me as I deserve. I've done so much for you. I've made a display of those who opposed you. And yet, you embrace the-"

"I embrace those who demand freedom and equality amongst ALL. You're nothing but demented. Ideology incarnate, the likes of which I've long since abandoned. I do not want THIS. I do not care for your methods, nor do I care for you. I DO wish to give you the redemption I have received. You. Have failed, Overlord. And failure is but a step to success."

Oh. He DARE use that word. The word that made some part of his processor just TICK. A violent, unstable little tick. Overlord pursed his lips, doing everything in his will to not just go outside, grab the first being he saw, and just go ballistic. That would be premature of him. His servos delicately ran back down his frame, determined to remember every nook and cranny on his body. Every pulsing light, every single movement of his frame.

"You know, Megatron, I've never entertained the notion of failure until I've met you. I've never felt so unable and powerless. However, this isn't a failure. You and I...are but a delayed success. You, even more so."

He lightly tapped his knuckle against the badge. Despite the lack of lights in the room, his snarling, white dentae shown clear through the darkness.

"But, I'm more than willing to put in the effort for you, as undeserving as you are. You...who ignores my efforts. Who treats all my work as something so insignificant...you, who demands all my attention, and my resentment."

He cupped the others thighs, and forced them apart. Megatron's optics scattered, and Overlord watched them. They studied his hands, his thighs, then his hands again. Then they drifted back to his own optics. Oh what a beautiful, meek look he had. A moment of weakness in such strength. What an enigma. He carefully leaned his hand down, and the resounding 'click' was deafening in the room. And then he saw it. The most beautiful, yet disgusting valve he'd ever seen. Beautiful in the sense of aesthetics, red bio lights beautifully pulsing it's way through the darkness, yet foul, in the fact that the autobots have claimed it as their own. Overlord shifted slightly, before lifting his thighs up, allowing him a well deserved closer look.

"Megatron...how many bots have claimed this valve?"

Megatron was frozen. That was as good as any answer. Overlord couldn't help but lightly chuckle as Megatron tried to squirm away from him. He may have been the only one to best him in the arena, but this is a battle that Megatron couldn't possibly win. Still supporting his lower half, he curled his arm around his thigh, and slowly rubbed that cherry red red in small, slow circles.

"Overlord, I swear to primus you better stop this. Nothing you can say or do can help you if you continue this. I'm trying to help you-"

"And I'm trying to save YOU. Megatron, the autobots have deemed this valve as their property. We decepticons-"

"I AM NOT A DECEPTICON!"

Overlord glared at him, only furthering the already palpable tension. The autobots really had their hooks into him. He sighed as his thumb took over, only pushing further into the folds. Not quite entering, but the possibility was very much there. 

"There there, Megatron. You're confused. Lost, and completely unable to see right from wrong. Unable to appreciate what others have done for you."

"Like the slaughter of many, using their energon as paint?"

"As symbols of my devotion! I know, I know, it's just SCREAMING 'Tarn' levels of obsession, but trust me, it's not like that in the slightest."

Tarn and Overlord had similar goals in mind, but were so diametrically opposed, that they resented each other completely. Both saw each other as blemishes amongst the proud decepticons. He was so full of himself, so eager to be Megatron's lapdog. While Overlord wanted what was best for him. Wanted whatever it took to bring out the raw, bold strength inside of him.

"I find it VERY hard to differentiate you two."

"Okay, that's just rude. First of all, he's a two, I'm a ten, so let's be clear on that."

Not just in looks either. Tarn would see Megatron as yet another traitor to add to his stupid list. While Overlord? Was opportunistic. He knew how to treat his master in ways that were actually beneficial. He wasn't cheap like Tarn. Didn't sit and pout, nor did he bitch and moan.

"Secondly, Tarn is a lowly follower. Me? I'm your disciple. A huge difference. A follower blindly goes to the beat of your drum. While a disciple...does what is needed of him."

Overlord softly pressed his lips against the other's stomach. Despite him being war torn over the ages, Megatron's metal was soft, smooth, and smelled like gunpowder. Megatron's hands clanged as he tried yet again to be freed of his captivity. How cute, fighting against change. Fighting against the fact that he clearly wanted this. 

"Overlord. I'm quickly losing my patience."

"Well then, let's cut to the chase."

He knew that wasn't what Megatron meant. But quite frankly, he was impatient himself. He lowered his lips down, and slowly, unceremoniously, ran his glossa up the others valve. Megatron was frozen stiff. It wasn't just shock that it happened, but shock that his body wanted more. Overlord noticed it immediately, barking in laughter.

"Ha! Look at you, my dear, awful Megatron. The autobots claim you, and yet, they do not care for you. How they've blinded you."

"Overlord, I swear to primus, if you touch me again, I'll-"

He was silenced the second Overlord did it yet again. He snickered as he watched the fluids slowly drip down his own glossa. Megatron might've THOUGHT he was an autobot, but this was a misdirection he was happy to fix.

"Shhh. Now now, my Megatron. Just relax. Your Overlord will take care of you."

He was about to go in again, before Megatron's pede smashed into his shoulder, pushing him well off the berth. Overlord took a second to chuckle as he got up. Megatron was going to GET IT now.

"Alright. You want to do this the hard way. We can absolutely make this difficult. We both like a challenge, don't we?"

Megatron made another motion to kick him off, when Overlord got back up on the berth, pushed his legs well above his helm, and despite the new angle, buried his face into his valve yet again. He didn't hesitate to let his glossa roam, memorizing every blinking light, every single fold, in mere kliks. Megatron still struggled, helm tossed back in agony. He hated how good it felt. His past incarnate, pleasing himself in ways he hadn't been able to in AGES. His glossa was thick, mandible, eager to have free roam of such an intimate area. The past shouldn't feel this good.

"G-get OFF!!"

Overlord refused. Not while every single moment brought forth another stream of fluid, another huff from his exhaust, another twitch of defiance. That was when the overload hit. He heard the cry from his poor Megatron, and was greeted with a flood. It was bright, thick, pink, and it was nectar from primus himself. Overlord licked his lips, pulling away. Megatron's legs slowly fell back down, but they refused to close. They were weak, open, trembling. Megatron's optics still held frustration, but now, was doubled with exhaustion.

"Now, was that so difficult?"

"Rust in the PIT."

Megatron made the effort to actually spit at him in his retort, and Overlord lightly shook his helm as he wiped it from his face.

"Hmm. Not quite there yet, I see. Not a problem. Like I said, I'm your disciple. I'll do whatever it takes, to make you as beautiful as you truly are. To show you just how much I deserve your love."

"You don't love. You TAKE. You KILL. You OBSESS."

Yet another glare. Megatron clearly needed the help, but was too proud, too stubborn to ask. How unfortunate. Overlord sighed, feeling almost bad for Megatron. He reached down, and parted the folds, lightly whistling at the wet, eager orifice. Megatron was gearing to bark at him again, before Overlord dove in, glossa exploring the depths of his valve, while his big, plump lips met the others folds. Megatron hated how soft they were. Hated the way his valve felt comfortable against something so supple, so eager for him. Overlord gazed upon him once again, and the mech was SEETHING. He was giving him a glare that could kill, but here his body was, letting him go on. His voice snarled at him, and Overlord had met pit hounds more friendly. 

"Get OUT of me, Overlord."

There was resistance, there was anger. But Overlord's glossa explored, burning this taste into his memory for eternity.

"S-stop fragging-"

Megatron gasped as his legs acted on their own, forcing his body to stay put as he overloaded yet again, valve cycling down on the glossa that had been satisfying him. Overlord didn't get to see the exact look on his face, given that his helm was tossed back, but from the way his frame was burning, the way his optics lit up the room as they flared, he could tell it hit just the right spot. Overlord chuckled as his glossa slid out of him like a serpent. He tasted better a second time. As he sat up straighter, he was finally able to see those weary, guilty optics.

"Why...why are you doing this...what do you hope to gain, you vile piece of slag?"

"Say you're a decepticon."

"W...what?"

"Say you're a decepticon."

Overlord wiped his lips with his servo, momentarily sucking on it, before lightly tapping onto Megatron's metal rhythmically, leaning on him as he explained the method in his madness.

"Say you're a decepticon. Because I know damn well this valve is decepticon property. That's what I want, ultimately, to guide you down the proper path."

"I've CHOSEN my path-"

"And it's unfortunate that you've chosen wrong."

Overlord interrupted. That was when he proved just how right his way was. He leaned up, and un did the other's bonds, before diving right back into the valve. This time, he focused right on the outside (it was speculated what his valve was like, but he had a feeling that pussy was FAT, and he wasn't at all surprised at just how right it was), enveloping the node, and the plump derma mesh that housed it. Megatron's hands were on him immediately, and of course, they did nothing to pull him away. He merely kept his helm right where it was, and in mere moments, he was overloading yet again. Exclaiming in just ecstacy, but frustration. Why did this feel so good? Why, despite how much he hated this mech, did he want him to continue? Overlord tore himself away, watching the fluid drip from his lips, right back onto the valve they came from.

"Let's try this again. Autobot, or decepticon?"

"Autobot."  
\-------

It was a vicious cycle. Overlord lost track of the time as the exchange kept going. An overload. An insult. A question. An overload. An insult. A question. It was maddening, and Overlord was cherishing every solitary second of it. He lost track as he was forced to swallow more of the bold tasting liquid, before he sighed, starting to lose patience. Megatron's metal was clanking as he shook, but he was left otherwise immobile. 

"Now, lets try this again. Autobot, or decepticon?"

"A-autobot, you d-dirty, conniving, son of-AHH!!"

He couldn't help but scream as his mouth was on him yet again. His valve was swollen, raw, soaked to absolute hell. And here Overlord was, only sucking on it further with those vacuum like lips. Megatron cried out further in an awful blend of pleasure and pain. Another overload came, and it came with force so hard, it stung, his body begging for a break. Overlord licked his lips again. Poor Megatron, such a talented valve neglected in his new 'cause'. 

"I know, I know, the right thing is sometimes very difficult. Let's try this again."

"P-please...no more...I can't."

Megatron lightly hiccupted, the tears running down his face threatening to destroy him further. 

"Autobot, or decepticon?"

Megatron couldn't respond, tears ever flowing down his cheeks. Overlord growled, and smacked the other's valve, making him yelp out in pain.

"ANSWER ME."

"A-AUTOBOT!!!"

"Why do you REFUSE-"

"I will NEVER accept the decepticons again."

Megatron's hurt optics looked up at him. He recognized that look of determination.

"There IS no decepticons anymore. We can do this until I up and rust. But not you, nor Tarn, will EVER have the satisfaction of having me as your leader. I am the co captain of the lost light. I am not your leader. A-and you are nothing to me. You. Have. Failed."

Overlord stared at him, and for a very brief moment, Megatron thought he had gotten through to him. Thought maybe, just maybe, something could be salvageable in this. But he was quickly proven wrong as Overlord dove back into his weak valve. Afterall, Overlord loved and detested him.

And no swears, insults, screams, nor tears, could change that.


End file.
